The Muse (Interracial Mystery Romance) (Dark Art Mystery Series) (38 page)

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Authors: Kenya Wright

BOOK: The Muse (Interracial Mystery Romance) (Dark Art Mystery Series)

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One passed away in the security video room in the center of the castle.

Reece appointed a lawyer for Grandma. She anticipated Grandma having legal trouble

once the collection was presented to the world. Although the videos didn’t show Grandma cutting the dead women’s vaginas, it did capture her admittance to me. And once news hit, Reece was right. Miami-Dade County pressed charges, as well as Elle’s ex-boyfriend, Michael, filing a complaint that she’d poisoned him. Grandma’s legal team was good. So far they’d settled with Michael and the first two victims’ families. But there would be more cases to come. I had no doubt about that, but I chose not to think of those things anymore.

Grandma didn’t see her imprisonment in her visions.

“State of Florida vs. Mrs. Needa Castillo.
Idiotas
!” Grandma laughed. “They forgot to put my gods in the case title. What is the state of Florida against my gods? Nothing.”

“I still want you to work with your lawyers,” I begged on the phone earlier tonight.

“Yes. Yes. I told them everything. The woman said something about religious freedoms or something. She thinks we’ll win. I know we will. I see things, you know.”

“I know, Grandma.”

“You know what I saw just this morning when I weeded in my garden?”

“What?”

“I’m back in Cuba in this house I’ve never seen before. It’s next to a beach, but I can’t tell you which one. I’m sitting in a chair with a violet blanket on my legs and lilies on my lap.

And guess who are sitting all around me, Al.”

“Who?”

“My great grandchildren. Lots of them. They’re listening to me and laughing, but I don’t know what I’m telling them. I strain my ears each time I see this vision, but still all I hear is their laughter.”

“Great grandchildren?”
Dear God. She’s already started.

“There’s so many, Al. You wouldn’t believe it.”

I rubbed my eyes. “How much is many?”

“Five. Three boys and two girls. I don’t see their names, but I imagine the first girl’s name would be Needa.”

I rolled my eyes. “Is this what your gods say?”

“Don’t be so smart. This is what I say. Your first daughter is named Needa.”

“Of course.” I grinned. “I love you, Grandma.”

“I love you, too. And stop worrying about that case. My gods say I’ll be in Cuba with many great grandchildren. I don’t see bars.”

And so I stopped worrying.

I left all other decisions to Reece, especially when it came to that damn collection. In his will, Hex named it
An Exodus in Sacrifice
. A lot happened once the will and events of the suicides hit the public. The media claimed Hex and his project members were a cult. Religious factions raised the possibilities that the video could be depicting Satanism through cleverly placed symbolism. Others argued this was why the art community needed an official ethics committee that regulated artists. The art world responded in an uproar about the freedom of speech and expression. The city of Miami called for X-lab to not show the collection. People stood outside of the art gallery with banners and signs protesting the opening for this evening.

Meanwhile, X-lab was set to be packed for its second event. There was a six-month

waiting list for tickets. When the tickets went up on our site for the Exodus, it was sold out in a matter of minutes. A move was in production for the whole affair. Several singers wrote songs about it. Even crazier, some white rapper emerged calling himself Hex the artist of death and wearing an odd striped wig in his videos. Everybody wanted to interview Elle, Grandma, and me. It seemed that people yearned to see death, whereas I for one had had enough. Which was why I lay on my yacht miles away from the opening. My days of management died with my brother. My enthusiasm in art withered away, too.

You want me to live, Hex? Then fine, I’ll live. Just give me time to fill the void you left.

Just give me time.

Footsteps sounded behind me. The sweet scent of orange blossoms drifted my way. My

love’s seductive voice came next. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

Elle lay down next to me, placed her head on my chest, and combed her fingers through my hair. “Do you regret not being at the opening?”

“No. This is where I need to be, holding you and gazing up at the stars.”

“Is Grandma going?”

“No. She’s packing to go back to Cuba. She just wanted to finish restoring her garden so it wouldn’t breed bad spirits.”
And probably preparing to knit baby tops and whatever else great
grandmas make for five great grandchildren.

“Did you tell her I said hi?”

“Of course.” My skin tingled as her fingertips massaged my scalp.

“We have to be more careful when we make love and start using condoms soon. I’m

running out of birth control pills. I doubt I’ll have any left by the time we get to. . . where are we going again?”

I laughed. It came out bold and rose high above the ocean.

“What’s so funny?”

“Grandma saw visions of great grandchildren.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You told me that Hex and you are her only grandchildren.

Where are all these children coming from?”

I winked. “Do you know how to change diapers and make bottles?”

She cleared her throat. “How many did she see?”

“Five.”

“Five?” she screeched. “That’s a lot. Thank goodness you said she’s only fifty percent right. I don’t know if I’m ready for five kids.”

I drank her image in, those sensual eyes, full lips, soft skin, and that face that captured me before I even realized I was trapped. “How many are you ready for?”

She opened her mouth in shock. “I-I have no idea.”

“Hmmm.”

“What does ‘hmmm’ mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right.” She smirked. “How many are you ready for?”

“Twenty at least.”

She tapped my chest. “Twenty? You’re insane. I can prepare myself for one or two, but anything more and I may lose it.”

“We would get you help, of course. Two nannies at least, a maid, cook—”

“Masseuse, too,” she added.

“Of course. We could have a whole team dedicated to making mommy happy.”

“Oh my God. You’re already calling me a mommy.”

I licked my lips. “I’m already thinking of the moments of conception.”

She shook her head. “Slow down. We’re already eloping to only God knows where to get married. Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?”

“Because it’s a surprise, but you’ll love it.”

“How do you know?”

“There will be tons of films there.”

“Oh, really? Is it the Cannes film festival? There’s no way we’re heading to France, right?”

I tried my best to keep a straight face, but I couldn’t do it. She brought the laughter out of me. “God, you’re hard to surprise. I had no idea you had all the dates of film festivals memorized.”

“Of course I do.”

“You should do something with this talent you have.”

“That’s the plan. I have a pretty full bank account now. I’m considering getting into the industry somehow, maybe film critic or starting an indie production company.”

I closed my eyes and let the boat rock me while I held my Elle. Hex had left a decent portion of his estate to Elle, making her financially independent and able to quit modeling for good.

“I figure I’ve seen so many movies,” she said. “I could probably help make some good ones.”

“You could. What would you make?”

“Something empowering for women.”

“And they’ll be nude, of course?”

She pinched my side.

“I’m sorry.” I chuckled. “They’ll have clothes on.”

“Yes. And they’ll be doing something bold and inspiring. Maybe I could do a

documentary. If I did, I would want to do something on Grandma.”

“Dear God. We don’t need her in front of any more cameras, hacking away at corpses

and chanting about her gods.”

“Stop that.”

For the rest of the night, we laughed in each other’s arms as the yacht pushed us forward to an unknown future that Hex had somehow painted for me.

Back in Miami, hundreds of people would be stepping into X-Lab to witness the death of a group of people who believed in their art so much they’d died for it. Many would find it inspiring. Others would think it was crazy. But I knew my brother the best of all. He loved many things. He’d made it his life to show the world something so powerful, the image would be ingrained in their minds for years after they’ve seen it. He believed in the ability to influence others so much he’d bet his soul in the claim.

And I imagine him high above me in some distant reality, checking in on me every now and then as he paints and creates more masterpieces.

Rest in peace, dear brother.

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